


i'll be the spring to your smile

by bloominsummer



Category: K-pop, SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Developing Relationship, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-18 00:28:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21518938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloominsummer/pseuds/bloominsummer
Summary: Lee Jihoon thinks hate is a rather strong word, but he also thinks that's how he feels toward a certain Kwon Soonyoung.It's almost metamorphic, learning how to love him instead.
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Kim Mingyu, Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi/Lee Jihoon | Woozi
Comments: 36
Kudos: 542





	i'll be the spring to your smile

**Author's Note:**

> happy birthday, carats' fairy lee jihoon!
> 
> [click](https://twitter.com/bioominsummer/status/1197824200259465218)

** [6] **

Before June, Jihoon had an enemy. _Arch_ enemy. Nemesis. Rival. Opponent. The antagonist in his life’s plot. The supposed main cause of his inevitable downfall. Before June, seeing Kwon Soonyoung’s face in the morning is enough to ruin his mood for the rest of the day. Soonyoung couldn’t stand to be in the same room as Jihoon without insulting him and Jihoon couldn’t breathe the same air as him without breaking into hives.

If he’s in one of those _i just saw the devil’s face_ moods _,_ Seungcheol would avoid being in the same room him. Wonwoo, who’s the nicest person he’s ever known by all definitions, stopped entertaining his angry ramblings after the first week. Seungkwan simply skittered in the other direction whenever he spotted Jihoon with a glower on his face. Jihoon isn’t even entirely sure how it started, the animosity between them, but he sure remembers how it ended in vivid details.

Some hot day in the middle of June, Soonyoung approached him when he was writing lyrics in the library during his free period. Jihoon rolled his back when he saw him approaching, ready to fight the storm Soonyoung was surely bringing with him, but the closer he got, the more obvious that he wasn’t there to throw metaphorical punches at Jihoon. Instead of his usual barbed words, Soonyoung just said, “Hey, I know this… is weird.”

It surely was.

“But, truce?” 

All Jihoon could do in that moment was gape. A hand is extended to him, Soonyoung’s, and his first instinct was to slap it away and laugh at the other’s face. He wasn’t that stupid to be lulled into a false sense of peace only to allow Soonyoung to launch his attack when he’d let his guard down. Yet, when he looked up at him, he saw the redness around his eyes, his puffed-up cheeks accompanied by the absolute ruin of Soonyoung’s lips due to his agitated bites. 

As big as an asshole he could be to Soonyoung when he wanted to, he realised something important then. Soonyoung might be having a hard time without Jihoon making the situation worse for him. Their constant fighting must have put a load on him, a rather unnecessary one he was choosing to eliminate for now. 

So he nodded his agreement and tentatively took Soonyoung’s hand, aiming for a handshake. There was only one problem: when their palms lined up, Jihoon felt a jolt of electricity strong enough to resuscitate a person suffering from cardiac arrest, he jumped up from his seat and away from Soonyoung, who immediately looked crestfallen by his reaction.

“Sorry. Static,” Jihoon had tried to explain, though he doubted that it worked if Soonyoung’s expression was any indication. “We’re good. Truce.”

Soonyoung rolled his bottom lip in, gnawing it between his pearly whites, and Jihoon wondered _why_ he couldn’t stop staring at him. Then he turned around without another word and disappeared behind the rows of shelves. 

When Wonwoo brought him lunch that day, Jihoon was still touching his hand absentmindedly, tracing the ghost of sensation Soonyoung’s skin left on his.

* * *

** [7] **

Wonwoo almost has a meltdown in the middle of July. If anyone asked for his opinion, Jihoon would say that the whole soulmate deal is total bullshit if Wonwoo doesn’t end up with Mingyu’s name written somewhere on his body when he wakes up tomorrow. 

“What if it’s not him?” Wonwoo’s voice is shaky like he’s on the precipice of crying.

All Jihoon can offer him is, “It will be him.” 

“But what if it isn’t?” 

Here is the thing: you’re supposed to find out who your soulmate is when you turn 22 by having their name written on you in their own handwriting. Wonwoo’s turn is tomorrow. He’s been on edge for the whole week, at least that’s how long he’s let it show, though Jihoon suspects he’s been actively dreading the day since he first met Mingyu.

“Then the system is rigged.”

“The system’s never wrong, Ji,” a tired exhale comes from the bed next to his. “You know that.” 

“Then it will be him, Won.” He looks over at his roommate who’s curled into a cocoon, Mingyu’s old sweatshirt clutched desperately in his hands. Wonwoo had refused to see his boyfriend for the evening, for reasons Jihoon won’t even try to understand. If he misses him so much that he’s resorting to inhaling his fading scent from a piece of clothing Mingyu left in their place, why not let him in when he came knocking at their door desperately?

“And what if it’s him?” Jihoon asks him back. “What happens then?”

Wonwoo’s answer is just a tad above a whisper. “Then… I’ll know it’s real.” 

“Have you ever felt like it isn’t real before this?” 

The question floats in the air before Wonwoo lets out a defeated, “…no.”

Jihoon gives him a pointed look, to which Wonwoo responds by indignantly pulling his blanket over his head to avoid Jihoon’s eyes. He’s about to open his mouth to say something else, then his phone pings.

Soonyoung.

_Tell Wonwoo not to worry_ , the notification reads. Jihoon snorts as he skims over the words. Easier said than done.

_He cares so much_ , Jihoon types back, _tbh this soulmate thing is always blown out of proportion_.

This, texting back and forth with Soonyoung, is a thing now. It’s almost scary how the older male fits seamlessly into Jihoon’s life once they got over their incessant bickering—they seem to have more in common than Jihoon would like to admit. The even bigger, more welcomed surprise is this: when they’re not throwing shades at each other, Jihoon genuinely enjoys being around Soonyoung. The guy effortlessly lifts the atmosphere of the room when he walks in, and all the silly antics he does that used to tick Jihoon off have slowly become endearing. 

He can see Soonyoung typing, then the bubbles with the three dots disappear. Typing, disappear. Typing… disappear. 

Jihoon frowns at his phone as if doing that will get Soonyoung to actually reply. 

“Who are you texting,” Wonwoo peeks from inside his fortress. “I’m way more important than whoever it is.” 

Sighing, Jihoon walks over to his bed and sits down, patting the huge miserable lump that is his friend a couple of times. “Wonwoo, you love Mingyu today. He loves you today. You will love him tomorrow, no matter whose name appears on your skin. And he’ll love you tomorrow, regardless of whether his name is on you. He doesn’t care, Wonwoo. I don’t think he’ll even ask whose name it is.”

No one ever gives Jihoon the task of talking someone down, because he does an absolutely abysmal job at it. As if to prove his point, Wonwoo promptly starts shaking, little choked-out sobs coming out of him. If Jeonghan were here, he’d throw Jihoon a look of utter disappointment before shooing him away, scooping Wonwoo into his arms and saying the right words. With less than 1% of Jeonghan’s knowledge and skill in his possession, the only thing Jihoon can do for Wonwoo is to stay next to him and make sure he has everything he needs as he cries himself to sleep.

The first thing Jihoon hears the next morning is, “Ji.”

He grunts in response. Whatever it is, it’s too early in the morning for this. 

“Jihoon, please wake up.”

The urgent tone with which the request is said helps him push away the sleep from his mind. Jihoon forces his eyes open to find Wonwoo’s face hovering right above his, features contorted in pain. _Oh, no_. “What is it?”

“I’m scared to look. Would you—”

“Yes,” Jihoon says quickly, sitting up on the bed so fast his vision blurs. “Of course,” he tells Wonwoo after readjusting his eyes. “Where…?” Jihoon feels his heart racing in anticipation like the discovery he’s about to make in the next few minutes will change the course of _his_ life.

“I don’t know yet. Maybe check my wrists first? Usually there, right?” 

Usually. Jihoon remembers being taught the places to look for the soulmate mark when he was in middle school. If you ask him, the mandatory lesson was delivered way too early for a kid to understand how the soulmate bond works. Or what having a soulmate even meant, for that matter. Not that his present self is any better in the aspect of understanding—Jihoon still remains clueless in the romance department, no matter how many people he’s managed to fool with his lyrics. 

Wonwoo extends his hands out to Jihoon, palms down. Jihoon gingerly takes his left one first, turns it over. He finds nothing. Wonwoo’s pale skin is unmarked everywhere his eyes can see. 

Then he takes Wonwoo’s right hand and flips his palm up. 

There’s a name, Jihoon’s brain supplies helpfully when his gaze settles on the writing. _There’s a name_.

Jihoon’s breath catches at the back of his throat. “What? Jihoon, what?” Wonwoo’s still looking at the ceiling, scared out of his wits, even though Jihoon now knows he doesn’t have any reason to be. 

“You should look for yourself.”

Wonwoo harshly retracts his hand from Jihoon’s hold and glares down at him, a flare of anger in his dark eyes. “Why are you playing games with me?! Right now, out of all times? What’s the point of asking you to—“ He’s cut off when Jihoon just brings right hand in front of his own face, for him to see the laps-lock, cursive _kim mingyu_ that now permanently decorates the skin of his inner wrist. 

“Congratulations?”

His best friend lets out a laugh, half in shock, the other half in relief, then falls back into his own bed. He keeps staring at his wrist with twinkling eyes. Jihoon lets him bask in his happiness, choosing to watch him and the beautiful smile on his face quietly. Before the silence that blankets the two of them can grow comfortable, there’s a series of knock coming from their front door. Right on time. Maybe fate plays a part in this, too. 

“Hyung?” comes Mingyu’s voice from the other side of the wood. Wonwoo glances at Jihoon, who raises his eyebrows expectantly.

“Yes,” Wonwoo replies, his hoarse voice floating through the room. 

“Will you let me in?”

Jihoon watches Wonwoo straighten his back before he walks to the door, opening it to reveal a very disheveled Mingyu. His dark hair is sticking out in all directions possible, his eyes are bloodshot. He probably hasn’t slept properly, that is if he even did sleep a wink. Mingyu gathers Wonwoo’s figure in his strong arms as soon as he has full access to his boyfriend and proceeds to bury his face in the junction of Wonwoo’s neck and shoulders. “I love you. I love you,” he repeats over and over again like a mantra.

There’s a dull ache in Jihoon’s heart from looking at them. Instead of jealousy, he suspects it’s something more akin to longing. He wishes he could leave, but the two men hugging are currently blocking his escape route. 

“Mingyu—“ Wonwoo roughs out with effort, “the name.”

“I don’t care.” Mingyu shakes his head stubbornly, hold tightening around Wonwoo’s body. See? Jihoon was right after all. “I don’t care. You can’t tell me to stop loving you just because it isn’t me. Please… don’t tell me to go.”

“Mingyu,” says Wonwoo again, soft. A little misleading, perhaps, his tone is similar to the one you use when you’re about to let someone down gently.

Mingyu just continues to cling to him, arms around Wonwoo with no intention of ever letting go. “Hyung, please.” 

“It’s yours.”

The world pauses at Wonwoo’s two words. Jihoon sees the thought registering in Mingyu’s brain from the comical changes in his facial expression. His puppy eyes are as wide as saucers when he pulls back to look at Wonwoo properly. Jihoon can’t see Wonwoo’s face, but he imagines he has that weird stupid smile he always puts on around Mingyu. 

“I—can I?” 

Wonwoo offers his boyfriend his hand. Mingyu takes it. Slowly, carefully, as if one wrong move and Wonwoo will break like porcelain. He traces a thumb over his name, lips parted in awe, while Wonwoo plays with the short hair behind his nape. Jihoon lets them have the moment, that is until Mingyu’s kisses start to divert from Wonwoo’s wrist to his mouth and they grow hotter by each passing second.

He clears his throat.

Pulling away from Wonwoo, Mingyu blinks a couple of times before his focus shifts to Jihoon. He offers him a sheepish smile as if he’d just noticed Jihoon there for the first time since he walked in. Jihoon doesn’t take that as an offence of any kind. In a way, Mingyu did just met his soulmate for the first time. He’ll let him have this one.

“Alright,” Jihoon stands up, slipping his feet into the warm slippers he keeps near the bed. “I need some coffee from… somewhere. Whatever you kids wanna do, remember the golden rule, okay?”

Mingyu nods wordlessly, bobbing his head up and down in his excitement. Wonwoo just stares him, eyes full with love and adoration, hand still playing with Mingyu’s hair. 

“What’s the rule?” Jihoon squints his eyes at the couple.

“No doing it in your bed.” The two of them answer him at the same time, their tone monotonous, like they’re bored of having to repeat this over and over again. But Jihoon knows them, he knows them both too well, and all it will take is Mingyu feeling slightly more reckless than usual for them to engage in sexual activities on Jihoon’s side of the room.

“Good,” says Jihoon, then he’s out the door.

* * *

** [8] **

August rolls in and Jihoon busies himself with preparations for the summer showcase. Soonyoung, unsurprisingly, also secured a spot in the lineup. Jihoon’s going to sing one of his originals and Soonyoung, well, Soonyoung’s performing a dance. Obviously, it makes perfect sense that they go to practice together more often than not. Nothing out of the ordinary here.

“Remember when we got into a fight the first time?” Soonyoung asks him one night, over the mountain of Thai takeout boxes between them.

They’re sitting on the floor of the practice studio, all sweaty and worn-out and hungry, hence the takeouts. He hums around his food and shakes his head in response to Soonyoung’s question, and the other man carries on.

“We fought over who booked the studio. _This_ studio.” A hint of nostalgia slips into his speech, like he’s talking about an occurrence that happened so long ago. Jihoon’s pretty sure it’s only been a year or so. “I was irritated, high-strung. I called you names which I shouldn’t have—it was neither of our faults that the system double-booked during the final weeks. And…” he trails off, shaking his head. “I never got to apologise about that.”

Jihoon pauses mid-chew. Did he just hear Kwon Soonyoung _apologise_? In which alternate universe had he been dropped into? 

“I was an asshole. I’m sorry.” 

“You’re good, dude.” He notices Soonyoung wincing a little at his reply. “I probably said some mean stuff too.”

They leave it at that. 

For a while, things are _good_. Jihoon's even confident enough to classify Soonyoung as one of his friends now. He gets along with the rest of Jihoon’s group just fine and Jihoon’s on a polite-nod-across-the-hall basis with Soonyoung’s friends. The shift in their dynamic is entirely strange, and sometimes Jihoon will be reminded of shock wave he experienced when he took Soonyoung’s hand in his that day in the library, but none of it bothers him enough to stop seeing the guy altogether. 

Then one day, Soonyoung waits for Jihoon as he practices until his throat is sore and he can’t go on any longer. He keeps missing the beat the entire day and his vibrato has never been shakier, so it’s natural that his mood is entirely sour. When Soonyoung asks him, “You ever consider dancing?” all Jihoon hears is thunder cracking in the background, accompanying his words. For him, the question is as good as a strike across the face.

What? Is his singing so awful that Soonyoung’s advising him to take up an entirely different mode of performance?

“I don’t remember asking for your opinion,” he spats, then gathers his things from the floor and marches right to the exit.

Soonyoung’s quick, though. He blocks Jihoon’s way, confusion painted across his features. Jihoon’s tries to get him to move by pushing at his arms, to no avail. The dancer is practically a wall of resistance. 

“I didn’t mean to overstep,” Soonyoung offers, apologetic. “I just can’t help but think of a routine when I hear you singing, I think it’ll be a good accompanying piece. But you can continue what you’re doing, of course. It’s already amazing.” 

He steps aside to let Jihoon out after he finishes talking. Ironically, the younger doesn’t feel like he wants to leave anymore. Jihoon looks up at him—he absolutely hates that he has to do that every time they stand near each other, because _why_ does Soonyoung get to be taller than him—and realises how close their faces are. At this distance, he can see Soonyoung’s lashes. They’re pretty.

Wait—did he just think of Kwon Soonyoung’s lashes as _pretty?_ Is that even a word he’d ever want to associate with him?

Taking a step back, Jihoon runs a hand through his hair. “Sorry. I heard that wrong. I thought you were criticising me. Or something.” 

Soonyoung actually laughs at that and it’s a rather beautiful, melodious sound that originates from deep within his chest. “It’s okay. You’re just tired,” a hand lands on his shoulder, giving him reassuring squeeze. Soonyoung flashes him a winning smile before he says, “Come on. I’ll treat you some spicy tteokbokki.” 

In the end, Jihoon takes Soonyoung up on his advice and adds some dance elements to his performance. Soonyoung’s beam when Jihoon asks him for help to choreograph some moves for it is invaluable. If Jihoon knew beforehand he’d elicit that kind of response from the older, he would have asked for help much sooner. Soonyoung gives him a hand when practicing and although Jihoon keeps forgetting how to do the simplest of turns, he never loses his patience.

If at the end of the night, Jihoon feels like his greatest reward for being able to memorise the routine is the proud seal-like claps Soonyoung gives him, it’s no one’s business but his.

“You and Soonyoung, is there something going on?” Wonwoo asks him one day, catching him off guard.

Jihoon swats him across the back of the head distractedly, keeping his eyes on the small TV screen. “What are you saying? Go left. _Left_. You need to cover me, man.” 

Instead of doing exactly that, Wonwoo pauses the game and puts his controller down on the table. Jihoon absolutely hates it when he gets like this. When Wonwoo wants to have a conversion, the other party is then _forced_ into reciprocation. Okay, maybe he’s being a little dramatic here. It’s just —he doesn’t want to talk about it. Like, ever. No one wants to talk about how they’re developing feelings for their former enemy.

“I’ve seen the way he looks at you, you know.”

A part of him wants to ask, _how_ , but another part of him, a bigger part, doesn’t want to wander into uncharted territories, so he cages his curiosity. “Play the game, Wonwoo.”

When Soonyoung shows up for their joined practice the next morning, Jihoon glances at his wrists before he even realises what he’s doing and breathes a little easier when he finds them empty.

* * *

** [9] **

Jihoon spends the first half of September moping and being an all-round pain in the ass to everyone he comes into contact with. 

Out of all the things Kwon Soonyoung could do to annoy him, Jihoon never thought avoiding him would be one of them. He hasn’t seen Soonyoung since the night of the showcase, which is weird, because they were fine up to the big day itself. Soonyoung even gave him a thumbs up when Jihoon walked down from the stage after his performance. Jihoon had mouthed to him, _good luck_ , to which Soonyoung replied with a smile that’s almost blinded everyone backstage. 

Then the showcase ended. Jeonghan had ambushed him by approximately a thousand kisses to each cheek, Seungcheol trailing lazily behind him. They looked like his proud parents. After Jeonghan’s done with his ministrations, Seungkwan came bounding over with a bouquet in his hand. The flowers were blue with flecks of yellow right in the middle.

“Thanks?” Jihoon had said, surprised.

“Yah, hyung. Not from me.” Seungkwan clapped him on the back. “Found it in your dressing cubicle. No notes.”

Wonwoo peered from around his shoulder. “Morning glory.” He turned to him, prodding Wonwoo to share his knowledge with the rest of the group. “In Chinese folklore, it represents a day when lovers meet for the first time.”

Definitely the wrong information to share, because Jeonghan started jumping around in his excitement as he thought there was a real possibility that Jihoon’s soulmate could have gotten his name first and was making subtle moves. 

A couple of months ago, Jihoon would most likely have welcomed the thought of having someone out there who’s destined from him. But as he quietly disposed of the bouquet when his friends weren’t looking, all he could think about is Soonyoung.

Weeks passed after that, and still, his mind is occupied with thoughts of the other man.

He opens his phone and scrolls to their chat, which mainly consists of him asking Soonyoung to hang out and continuously getting shut down. Soonyoung didn’t even put effort into lying to him, his reasons are always more or less the same, recycled from the previous ones over and over again.

_Are you avoiding me,_ Jihoon sends before he can think too much of it. 

A minute passes, then another minute. Five minutes pass after that. When his phone finally pings, Jihoon scrambles to open the reply.

_No?_

Liar, he thinks.

_Okay, then barbecue tonight?_

The typing bubble shows up. Jihoon swears if it disappears and Soonyoung doesn’t reply to him, he’ll stride across campus to find him and drag him by the collar. As if on cue, the bubble disappears. 

Jihoon stands up from his seat.

_The usual place?_

He sits back down, the fight leaving his body at Soonyoung’s agreement and the ease with which it came. Huh, maybe Soonyoung’s genuinely been busy these past few weeks. Jihoon isn’t entirely sure about his external schedule, although he’s memorised most of Soonyoung’s class hours at this point. Maybe it’s the dance club. 

When they meet up at the restaurant, Jihoon’s suspicions begin to grow again. Soonyoung is restless, more so than usual, feet shaking underneath the table and eyes focusing on everything else except Jihoon. His worry is beginning to eat him up from the inside, so Jihoon reaches across the table for Soonyoung’s hand. 

The shaking subsides instantly. 

There it is again: a tiny jolt of electricity. Nowhere near as strong as the first one, but still as unexplainable. The difference is, this time, Jihoon doesn’t take his hand away. He endures it because the contact seems to calm Soonyoung down and that’s way more important right now.

“Too much coffee?” 

Much to his disappointment, Soonyoung is the one who carefully extricates his hand from beneath Jihoon’s. “Yeah. Sorry, caffeine overload.” His legs don’t start moving again and Jihoon hopes he might stop avoiding his eyes, too, but it doesn’t happen until they eventually have to part ways.

A couple more days after that, Soonyoung continues to be noticeably absent in Jihoon’s daily life. Not that he’s starting to miss his presence, not at all. Truly. Jihoon is _fine._ He’s _dandy_ , even _._ It totally does _not_ feel like a chunk of his heart has been torn out.

Then Seokmin calls him, thirty minutes to midnight on a Thursday, completely hysterical. No one has seen Soonyoung for an entire day and his phone seems to be out of service. They checked the studio, they checked his favourite noodle shop, they checked everywhere he could have been. There’s still no signs of him and everyone, including Minghao, who Jihoon suspects doesn’t get phased by an earthquake, is starting to freak out. 

Jihoon tries not to panic himself since it wouldn’t help anyone nor the situation, but he feels his heart gently relocating to his stomach. “Did you check the gazebo at the park?”

The silence from the other end of the line stretches for a moment. “ _The what, hyung? Which park? I’ll go now._ ”

“It’s closer to my place, I’ll go,” Jihoon tells the younger without a second thought. Wonwoo rouses from his sleep when Jihoon accidentally bangs his body into the wardrobe while trying to get his jacket out and asks him where he’s going at this hour. 

All Jihoon tells him is that he has to retrieve an important package before he’s rushing out the door. 

He runs all the way to the park, which, contrary to what he told Seokmin, is a good fifteen minutes leisure walk from his dorm. The gazebo right in the middle of it isn’t lit at night, so Jihoon has to get close before he can see if anyone’s sitting inside. 

“Shit,” he feels a surge of panic when he sees the person he’s looking for lying down inside the structure, head pillowed on his own arm. “Oh my god,” Jihoon crouches down on the ground next to him, shaking his body. “Soonyoung. Soonyoung!”

Soonyoung shoots up from his position, eyes wild. “What?!” There’s a rather fresh trail of drool on his face.

“You scared me,” Jihoon clutches his chest, trying to get his heartbeat under control. “Seokmin’s been calling you for hours.”

Upon hearing his words, Soonyoung reaches for his phone and tries to turn on the display, but he doesn’t succeed. The battery’s dead, probably has been for a while. “I must have…” he promptly yawns, already sleepy again. “Fallen asleep.”

“You think?”

Jihoon dials Seokmin's number while Soonyoung is busy tapping on his cheeks with his fingers, trying to wake himself up. He wipes at the side of Soonyoung’s mouth with his sleeve, causing Soonyoung to jerk his head away in surprise. Before Jihoon can voice his protests out loud—he’s doing something nice for Soonyoung, anyway, he doesn’t deserve such a harsh reaction—Seokmin picks up the call.

“I found him,” he speaks into the receiver as he eyes Soonyoung carefully. “He’s okay. I should get some food in him first, then I’ll walk him home.”

There’s a groan from the other end of the line, presumably Minghao’s by the heavy exasperation in it.

“ _Oh my god thank you hyung. Tell him he’s in big trouble. Hao’s whipping out his nun-chucks._ ”

“Pace yourself,” Jihoon tells him as he watches Soonyoung gulp down his food.

“Don’t worry,” he dismisses Jihoon’s concern by waving his spoon around. “I’ve practiced inhaling soup through my nose.”

Shaking his head, Jihoon begins to question why instead of annoyance, he only feels affection toward Soonyoung’s response. “Not that, you idiot. With practice. You work hard, which is good, but know your own limits, would you? You’re making your dongsaengs worry.”

“Are you talking about Seokmin and Minghao?” He might have misheard, but there’s a hint of hope in Soonyoung’s question.

“Who else would I be talking about?”

Soonyoung casts his glance to the floor, refusing to meet Jihoon’s eyes. 

“I watched you play once, during freshman year,” Soonyoung speaks again, eyes still downcast. Man, Jihoon misses having them focused on him. At this point, he'd take the dark glares Soonyoung used to send his way over this nothingness. 

“I was going to practice at 6 in the morning and I heard piano sounds from the music room.” A small huff is inserted into his pause. “I didn’t know you compose your own songs back then, so I thought it was some foreign song. You played it perfectly, then you stopped to catch your breath and started from the beginning again.”

Lifting his eyes to meet Jihoon’s, Soonyoung wears a look of reminiscence. He gets like this sometimes; he’d talk about their past interactions like they happened in a previous life. Like they are precious memories to him, ones he holds very close to his heart. Like he’ll never get the chance to make new ones, even though both he and Jihoon are _here_ , still alive and breathing the same air. 

“I was in awe… when I practice, and I got it right, then I’ll stop there. But you… didn’t. You were trying to master perfection, which made me realised I’ve got it all wrong.”

Jihoon doesn’t know how to react to the revelation. He wasn’t aware that Soonyoung knew him before all their cat and mouse act started. There’s fondness in Soonyoung’s eyes for a moment before he reels it back in, conveniently slipping into his mask of nonchalance once again. Why— _why_ is he holding back? He’s pulling at Jihoon’s heartstrings and loosening his grip right after. Rinse and repeat. 

“You’re quite inspirational, Lee Jihoon.” Soonyoung has never sounded more genuine when he lets those words out in a singular breath.

In the following moments, as he wordlessly waits for Soonyoung to finish his meal, Jihoon comes to a realisation. 

His heart used to start racing whenever he saw Soonyoung stalked toward him, in anticipation of a harsh exchange of words. The adrenaline that rushed through his veins then was automatically invoked by the sight of the older man. Now, sitting across from Soonyoung, Jihoon’s heart is also beating twice as hard as normal, but it’s for an entirely different reason.

* * *

** [10] **

Throughout the month of October, Jihoon grows closer to Soonyoung. There’s still _something_ blocking their connection, something coming from Soonyoung’s end of the line, but Jihoon decides not to press the matter. Their friendly hang-outs happen more and more often and Soonyoung never once looked forced to come. He’s the one who initiates half of the time, so Jihoon decides that he will take what Soonyoung is willing to offer for now. 

A rather notable development: Soonyoung teams up with him at weekly bowling nights. He’s surprisingly good at it, too. Mingyu gets sulky because of this, since he’s used to being the ace of the group. Seungcheol gets so annoyed at his whining, he ends buying more food for the group just to get Mingyu to chew with his mouth instead of complaining.

After the usual three or four rounds of game, the group usually relocates to the nearest pub to drink and dance their night away. Jun knows the bartender—which is unsurprising because Jun knows everyone who matters—which means they get discounts on their tab at the end of the night. This is usually the part where Soonyoung politely excuses himself, saying he has to work morning shift the next day, or an assignment due he hasn’t finished. Jihoon gives him the benefit of the doubt every single time.

Tonight, unlike any other night, Soonyoung joins them for drinks. 

Since Jihoon doesn’t dance—not casually and definitely not for fun, anyway, most of the time he just sits at the corner booth and entertains whoever’s taking a water break at the moment. Wonwoo’s often the one who accompanies him through and through, but tonight he leaves the job to Soonyoung. The older slid in the booth next to Jihoon when they entered the place and hasn’t left his side since. 

As much as he tries not to be, Jihoon is hyperaware of his presence. He’s aware of Soonyoung’s long fingers wrapping around the neck of his bottle, aware of Soonyoung’s regulated breathing—strong and steady—aware of Soonyoung’s leg pressing up against his own, lined all the way from their upper thighs to their calves.

“So…” Soonyoung starts quietly, as if taking caution not to set any bombs off. The music in the pub isn’t set to deafening mode, but if Soonyoung were to lower his volume just a little more, Jihoon would have missed his question. “What do you think about soulmates?” 

Jihoon turns his face to him only to find Soonyoung staring across the room. He follows his line of sight, gaze settling on Wonwoo and Mingyu, who are currently slow-dancing across the room. The song playing is definitely not one people normally slow-dance to, but it doesn’t seem to stop the couple from doing whatever they want. 

Right then, Mingyu says something to his boyfriend. The words carried across the small space between their bodies elicit a happy laugh from Wonwoo. Even from a distance, Jihoon can tell Wonwoo’s nose is crinkling. 

“I think those two are a textbook example of a pair.” 

It’s apparently not the answer Soonyoung is looking for, because he continues pushing. “But… in general?”

He wonders why Soonyoung’s talking about this. Why he’s chosen this exact moment to talk about it. By the end of next month, Jihoon is going to turn 22. Just like the rest of the world, he’ll get another’s name written on him. It might be someone he already knows or a perfect stranger he has to look for with the hopes that they’ll grow to become his world as he’ll become theirs. If he’s being completely honest with himself, Jihoon’s already found someone like that. Someone he thinks _can_ be his world. His home, his sanctuary, his forever.

Then again, it might end up to be a different person than the one he has in mind. The thought turns bitter. 

“I don’t believe that having your name written on someone makes them your soulmate, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

The answer must have come out harsher than Jihoon intended as Soonyoung starts to shrink in his seat. He begins playing with the cuffs of his long-sleeved shirt, but Jihoon misses it. He misses it because he’s too busy trying to tell Soonyoung how he feels without actually spelling it out, unaware of how Soonyoung’s taking it the exact opposite way.

“What if I’m in love with someone else when I get my soulmate’s name? Should it change the way I feel about the other person?”

Soonyoung doesn’t answer his hypothetical question.

“I won’t let it,” he declares with determination. “I’ll love who I want to love.”

_And I think… towards you, I…_

Across the establishment, Wonwoo wraps his arms around Mingyu’s neck and pulls the younger’s face down to his, meeting him in a kiss so sweet Jihoon has to look away.

“Just because the universe tells me one thing, doesn’t mean I have to follow it, right?”

When Jihoon turns to him, anticipating a response, all he sees is Soonyoung’s closed-off expression. His lips are curled inward, shoulders hunched. Jihoon realises their legs aren’t touching anymore. Soonyoung remains quiet afterward and when they part ways at the end of the night, he only hooks one arm around Jihoon instead of two, patting him lightly on the back once before moving away. The pang in Jihoon’s heart stays there until the next morning.

After that night, Soonyoung never once brings up the topic again. 

* * *

** [11] **

The week before his 22nd birthday, Jihoon asks Wonwoo a question while the other is doing some reading for his class.

“What would you have done if it wasn’t Mingyu?”

Wonwoo whips his head around quickly, curly locks swaying in a dramatic motion. “Please, you’re giving me heart palpitations.” His wide eyes are glassy. “I don’t know, Jihoon. I don’t even want to think about it.”

“Right.” He instantly feels regret. Of course, even though things are all good now, the fear is still fresh in Wonwoo’s mind. He shouldn’t have brought it up so easily—he just wanted to know, he supposes. He wants to be ready for whatever scenario will play out next week. “I’m sorry, forget I asked.”

“Wait—uh.” Wonwoo hesitates, gnawing at his bottom lip. “I think I’ll be devastated, but at the end of the day, it would change nothing. I’d still be with him as long as he’d want me. Until he’d get his own name… and make his decision.” 

The last part comes out of him in a shaky exhale and Jihoon’s regret morphs into guilt. “Ah, why are you tearing up? Don’t cry. Sorry I ambushed you with it.”

“You found them, didn’t you?” Wonwoo asks him instead, eyes searching Jihoon’s face for an answer. “The person whose name you want on your skin.”

_Holy shit_. How did he even deduce that from a simple question?

“How—?”

Wonwoo shrugs, a hint of pride shown in the quirk of his mouth. At least he no longer looks like he’s about to burst in tears. “I’m observant.” Then, he proceeds to give Jihoon a pointed look, waiting for his answer.

“Yeah,” he allows Wonwoo the truth. He figures his friend deserves as much since Jihoon almost made him cry for no good reason. “I think… so. From the looks of it, I’ll probably be the first one to get it between us, but I don’t know for sure.”

The slight quirk turns into a full-blown, gummy smile. “I’m happy for you.” Deeming the conversation is concluded for now, Wonwoo returns to his reading still with that smile on his face.

“Hey, Wonwoo. Can I ask you another question?”

After Wonwoo gives him a quick nod, Jihoon continues. “Do you know when Soonyoung’s birthday is?”

The look on Wonwoo’s face changes in a matter of seconds. It goes from hopeful… to dreadful. “Oh, Jihoon,” he says, voice low. Jihoon’s chest tightens at his tone. Wonwoo never uses this careful and restrained tone to bear good news. “He’s 22 already. He and Jun talked about how their birthdays were close that one time.”

Turns out Wonwoo's not observant enough to see that coming. Well, to be fair, never in a million years did Jihoon expect to feel this way about Soonyoung.

“I see.” He’s surprised at how calm his answer comes out of him. “That’s okay.”

It’s not entirely okay, but he’s glad Soonyoung has someone out there who will love him the way he deserves to be loved, even though it’s not Jihoon.

On his birthday, Jeonghan insists that the gang goes out to the pub to have a little celebration. Jihoon is never the one to say no to his favourite hyung, so he puts on his best jeans and favourite shirt, albeit begrudgingly, and follows Wonwoo out of their place around dinner time. Jeonghan has also taken the liberty to invite Soonyoung and his friends to the gathering. Well, they’re Jihoon’s friends now, too, he supposes. Not just by extension, either. He's producing a duet with Seokmin, after all. His and Soonyoung's worlds are becoming one except for the part that matters the most. 

He sees Seokmin first, bouncing on his heels right outside the entrance, talking animatedly with Seungkwan. Minghao is right beside him, though he’s not tuning in on the conversation as much as he’s eyeing Jun, who’s standing next to Seungcheol on the other side of the door. Jihoon smiles at that and makes a mental note to tease the younger about it later.

Then, finally, inevitably, his eyes land on Soonyoung’s figure. The older man turns around to them before Jihoon or Wonwoo even calls out to the gang. He’s the only person who seemed to notice their arrival until Mingyu follows his lead and turns, probably having sensed Wonwoo’s presence. The soulmate bond is some scary shit even when it’s not fully developed on both sides yet.

“Hey,” Soonyoung greets him lightly once Jihoon’s close enough. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere else but here, but he fights to put a smile on for Jihoon anyway. Jihoon wants to ask him if he's okay, if he'd rather leave and if he'd want Jihoon to come with, but then Soonyoung says, “I brought you a gift,” and he gets distracted.

Jihoon finds a small carton box placed on his open palm. It’s light. He shakes it a little, and then, “Can I open it?”

“Sure,” he nods.

Jihoon unwraps the thread holding the box closed carefully before he opens it, eyes widening when he realises what Soonyoung has given him. A capo. For his guitar, because Jihoon's old one broke almost a month ago and he keeps complaining that he needs to go buy a new one without actually doing it. Feeling a surge of bravery rise from within him, Jihoon stands on his tiptoes and places a soft kiss to the corner of Soonyoung’s mouth. It’s not anywhere near a provocative move, but it’s also impossible for Soonyoung to misinterpret the meaning of the gesture.

“Thank you,” he tells him when he pulls away, heart on his sleeve. 

He wishes he didn’t though—pull away nor put his heart on his sleeve, because Soonyoung has that same crestfallen look on his face as the day Jihoon abruptly pulled his hand away from his. 

“I’m sorry, Ji.” Soonyoung looks so _broken_. “I have to go.” He pushes past Jihoon and practically sprints down the street.

Fuck. Jihoon’s so stupid. Of course. Of fucking course. Wonwoo’s told him that Soonyoung’s 22nd birthday has passed. He’s already gotten his name and nothing he feels for Jihoon can change that fact. Jihoon might be okay with defying destiny, but Soonyoung can feel differently. Soonyoung must feel differently. In his mind, he already belongs to someone else.

And the system is always right. 

Still, Jihoon runs after him. He hears Wonwoo calling out for him faintly, but his feet continue on their seemingly predetermined path regardless. Soonyoung has just managed to turn around the corners when Jihoon finally thinks he’s close enough to give Soonyoung a shout.

“Soonyoung! Hey! I’m sorry!”

Soonyoung stops a good ten metres in front of him, then turns around to face Jihoon. Tears are pooling in the corners of his eyes and the sight aches something awful inside Jihoon. “ _You’re_ sorry?”

Jihoon hesitates at the question because it seems like Soonyoung wants _no_ for an answer. “Yes?”

Rubbing at his eyes tiredly, Soonyoung shakes his head, his brown locks are blown all over the place by the night wind. “Jihoon, you won’t want anything to do with me tomorrow and I can’t—I can’t just do this for tonight.”

Wait—that’s definitely a problem, but it’s not the right one. He thought Soonyoung was the one who didn’t want anything to do with him, at any time. Jihoon, on the other hand, will always want something to do with him. And definitely not just for tonight.

The harsh fact still remains.

Tomorrow, Jihoon gets his own person. They’re each going to have different names written on their skin and it’s not going to be the other’s, as much as Jihoon wants it to be. As much as he wills it. For a split second, he’s reminded of Mingyu and the way he was determined to love Wonwoo even if he had another name written on him.

If Mingyu was willing to fight fate for Wonwoo, then Jihoon can do the same for Soonyoung.

“I don’t care. Whatever happens tomorrow, I don’t care. You can’t—“ _tell me to stop loving you just because it isn’t me._ Jihoon doesn’t get to finish his sentence because Soonyoung’s raising a hand toward him, forcing him to stop with the gesture.

“Stop it,” Soonyoung tells him, his expression carefully left blank. “You’re… being selfish. I can’t, Jihoon. Good night.”

He couldn’t avoid the pitying looks everyone sent his way for the rest of the night. They tried to make it fun for him, he’ll give them that, but it was too obvious that Soonyoung’s absence left a wide, gaping hole in their midst. Minghao immediately left to go after his roommate when Jihoon returned without Soonyoung. Seokmin looked torn and confused about what to do for a good half an hour before he, too, got a phone call and excused himself, hugging Jihoon and wishing him a happy birthday on his way out.

So much for that wish. Jihoon felt anything but happy.

When the clock finally turned 12 and Seungkwan bounded over to him with a cake in hand, Jihoon was so out of it he didn’t realise he was zoning out until the candle’s all melted onto the icing. Wonwoo finally called it a night, then, ushered Jihoon out of the pub and back into their dorm without as much as a word. 

Wonwoo helped him out of his casual clothes and into his pajamas, then tucked him in. Jihoon might have heard him say good night and happy birthday once again, but at that point, he didn’t feel alive enough to remember.

“Hey,” Jihoon calls to Wonwoo, who’s already awake and typing away on this laptop.

The older’s fingers stop their movement and he spins around in his chair to look at Jihoon. There’s a smile on his face, more reassuring than happy, but Jihoon will take it. “Hey, Ji. How are you feeling?”

“Can you check—“ he starts, and Wonwoo quickly nods in understanding. As he rises from his seat and makes his way to the bed, Jihoon closes his eyes, waiting. “Wrists empty,” says Wonwoo, quiet. Jihoon’s heart picks up its beat. 

“I’m going to lift up your shirt, is that okay?”

He gives Wonwoo a wordless nod. Wonwoo does exactly what he said he would, then Jihoon feels a finger pressing above his left pectoral. “Wonwoo?”

“Jihoon, it says—“ Wonwoo takes a deep breath. There's the longest pause Jihoon’s ever felt in his entire life before he continues on. “It says Kwon Soonyoung.”

“What the hell,” he hits Soonyoung with the pillow as hard as he can manage while trembling all over. Minghao tries to pull him away from Soonyoung, but he just shrugs him off easily. The younger stops putting any real effort to tug at Jihoon’s arms after he realises he doesn’t actually plan on hurting Soonyoung. “What,” he hits Soonyoung’s sleep-laden face. “The.” Another hit, then Soonyoung's arms shoot up to protect himself. “Actual, ever-loving fuck.” He throws the pillow across the room. It bounces off the wall and lands on the floor with a dull thud. 

Soonyoung sits up on the bed, trying to catch Jihoon’s flying limbs. “Jihoon—“

Before Soonyoung can say anything else, Jihoon pulls at his shirt until it’s no longer tucked into his boxers and proceeds to yank it over his head. Minghao lets out a sound of protest somewhere in the background, but Jihoon finds it hard to focus on anything else but his name on the smooth plane of Soonyoung’s chest. 

“Minghao,” he hears Soonyoung speak after a moment of silence befalls them. “Could you give us a moment? Sorry.”

There’s some muttering and what he suspects is obscene curses being thrown out in Chinese, but eventually, Minghao does as Soonyoung asks him to. Jihoon’s eyes remain fixed on _his_ name on _Soonyoung’s_ chest until he hears Minghao closing the door behind him.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” Jihoon starts out, quiet. “Do you really think this is the best way for me to find out?”

“Fuck you,” spats Soonyoung. Not expecting that kind of reply, Jihoon flinches. Out of all the possible answers, he didn’t expect such a hostile one. “You don’t want a soulmate,” Soonyoung’s voice shakes with what Jihoon can only perceive as simmering anger. “Do you know how it feels like when your soulmate says they don’t want you right in front of your face? Without even knowing who you are. So no matter how hard you try, you know you won’t ever be good enough.”

Jihoon’s feels his heart constrict at his words. It all comes back to him now, the way Soonyoung reacts to his quips about soulmates. “Fuck, Soonyoung.”

“And that’s still not enough humiliation for you,” Soonyoung scoffs, turning his gaze away from him. “You want me to tell you directly so you can reject me. _Me_ ,” a slight hitch in his speech, “this time, and not some hypothetical soulmate figure.” 

It takes Jihoon a beat too long to reply, his brain is still trying to catch up with all the new facts presented to him. Soonyoung takes his silence as yet another rejection as he shuts his eyes in pain. Jihoon can’t even blame him—looking at things from Soonyoung’s point of view, he’s been nothing but a shitty soulmate for the past five months. But he didn’t know, even though he _should_ have. The spark he felt when their hands touched for the first time, there’s an explanation for it now. An explanation he could have seen earlier if he was brave enough to hold on to hope. 

“The flowers,” he suddenly realises. “On the day of the showcase, that was you.”

“I was going to tell you then,” Soonyoung laughs, pinching the bridge of his nose out of frustration. It sounds so wrong to Jihoon’s ears. It sounds bitter and sad and all the things Jihoon never wants to hear coming from him again. Soonyoung’s laugh should always feel like having a mild afternoon breeze wash over you, not a knife being pushed into your gut. 

“Then you threw them away.”

Jihoon’s heart sinks to the deepest trench in the ocean. 

“So I put on some distance between us. At that time, it seemed to me like you were trying to close the gap. It gave me a little bit of hope. What good that was. Like a fool, I kept on trying. I kept on hoping that one day I’ll ask the question and your answer will change. Isn’t that the definition of insanity? Doing the same thing over and over again, expecting a different result.”

He opens his mouth to reply, but then Soonyoung’s pain materialises through their soul bond and the waves of emotion hit Jihoon hard. He finds himself wanting to do anything he can to alleviate it, not because _he’s_ in pain, but because _Soonyoung_ is and that’s not something Jihoon can stand for. 

“Get off me, Jihoon.”

The hurt that laced his command is enough to snap Jihoon out of his trance. Stubbornly, he remains where he is and locks Soonyoung’s thighs in with his own, holding the older male in place. “You’re right. I didn't want a soulmate,” he begins slowly.

Soonyoung’s eyes fly open, his sharp gaze flicking to meet Jihoon’s own. “Yes,” he replies through gritted teeth. “You’ve made that perfectly clear. Now _get off me._ ”

“I didn’t want a soulmate,” Jihoon repeats again. He was ready to fight everything his way for Soonyoung even if they weren’t soulmates, there’s absolutely no way he’s giving up now when he knows that they’re meant to be together. Soonyoung’s about to bark out yet another reply, but Jihoon’s quick to cut him off this time. “Because no one could ever compare to you. If it weren’t your name Wonwoo found on me this morning, I wouldn’t have cared. I’ll still be in love with you.”

Oh.

The flood gates opened. 

A surge of relief rises within him and settles in the very core of his being. _That’s what it means_ , he thinks at this moment, _when they say loving sets you free_. The intricate knots that were previously tightened around his guts begin to unwind one by one, giving Jihoon the courage to go on even at Soonyoung’s disbelieving expression. He knows, though, that Soonyoung can feel it too. Through the bond. 

Even if Jihoon was lying, he can never fool the connection. 

“Soonyoung, I’m in love with you,” he breathes out, easily, gladly. “Oh my God. That’s the first time I said that out loud. Even to myself.” He can’t help the happy giggle that escapes him at that. How true it feels—how _right_. “No one will ever be good enough for me if they’re not you.”

The way Soonyoung stares at him after gets him hoping that maybe, with a little bit of time, and a lot more honest conversation than they’ve had up to this point, the two of them will make it work. That’s what this whole thing is about anyway, two people putting in an effort to build a world together. Jihoon gets it now. Here, while straddling Soonyoung in his bed at ass o’clock in the morning, the older boy bare-chested with Jihoon’s name written in permanent ink across his skin, he finally gets it. 

All the mark does is give them a starting point. Whether they make it to the ending is entirely up to them.

And Jihoon wants to. He wants to make it to the end. He wants a world with Soonyoung. 

Let’s just hope he can get Soonyoung on board with the plan.

“Don’t fuck with me, Jihoon, please,” Soonyoung hangs his head low, staring down at Jihoon’s lap. “Not like this.”

His voice breaks right at the end of his plea and Jihoon feels a part of himself breaking with it.

“I’m not.” He takes Soonyoung’s face in his hands and gently lifts it up, rubbing the pad of his thumbs on his cheeks as he does so. Soonyoung’s resistance slowly crumbles underneath Jihoon’s touch. The younger watches as his soulmate inches closer and closer to acceptance. “I thought you had another person’s name on you. I thought I didn’t stand a chance at winning.”

Jihoon’s somehow glad that Soonyoung starts to cry at that point. Tears are something he can work with, unlike a void of emotion Soonyoung could easily choose to display to him. He’s glad, too, because he can start to cry just as much and he won’t be the only one. It makes him so, _so_ , happy, when he realises that from now on, he doesn’t _have_ to be the only one, no matter what he goes on to do. He’ll come with a Soonyoung-shaped person attached to his side.

Soonyoung struggles to give him any reply because his tears soon come with excessive hiccups, so Jihoon just kisses him all over his perfect face. The tears he licks away salt his lips, but Jihoon doesn’t care much for it. 

“There was never any competition to begin with, you _pabo_ ,” Soonyoung chokes out exasperatedly at the small ministrations performed on his face, right before he leans up and properly kisses Jihoon, reeling him in.

* * *

** [12] **

In December, Jihoon has someone to celebrate the end of the year with him. He’s waiting for his boyfriend at Soonyoung’s favourite park—now also his own—for their last-minute Christmas shopping run. Of course, said run is brought on by Soonyoung forgetting that Jeonghan does _not_ accept handmade gifts for Secret Santa. He’d wasted over two weeks trying to knit Jeonghan a sock.

Yes. A single sock. It came out the right size for a giant baby, but Jihoon doubted it would fit half of Jeonghan’s toes.

Jihoon can’t believe he’s in love with this disaster wrapped in a human body.

“Merry Christmas.” He hears suddenly, then there’s a familiar hand on his hip. “Oh look! Mistletoe,” Soonyoung chirps before he bends down to steal a kiss from his boyfriend, one hand hanging in the air to hold the single pathetic stalk of mistletoe above their heads. 

Jihoon automatically closes his eyes when Soonyoung kisses him, but the older pulls away before he gets to deepen it. Jihoon tries not to whine when Soonyoung’s lips leave his.

“If you wanted to kiss me, you could have just asked,” he teases, even though he’s blushing furiously and it’s definitely not because of the cold.

Soonyoung snorts playfully and nudges him with his shoulder. “As if you would let me.”

Now, Jihoon doesn’t make a habit out of lying, but he has learned how to withhold truths when it comes to Soonyoung. Otherwise, things would get quite messy quickly. For instance, in this moment, what he really wants to say is: _you can ask me to strip in this cold and i’ll do it because i love you_. What he says instead is: “In the name of the Christmas spirit, I would have.”

See? Self-control. Also self-preservation, maybe. Who knows what Soonyoung would do with his power if he knows just how much he has over Jihoon.

“You want your present now?”

The question presented to him has Jihoon smiling with his teeth showing. He offers Soonyoung his right hand, palm facing upward. “Yes, please.” 

Soonyoung pulls something out of the pocket of his hoodie and Jihoon vibrates with excitement right up to the moment when the item is laid across his open palm. He stares at it and blinks once because surely that can’t be his present. It’s their first Christmas together—Wonwoo will definitely tease him until the end of time if he ever gets wind of this—and Jihoon wants it to be special.

Perhaps special in Soonyoung’s dictionary is gifting your soulmate a marker. If that is truly the case, then Jihoon is a whipped fool, because smiles a little anyway.

“Did you just give me a Sharpie?”

Soonyoung simply nods and looks at him expectantly. 

“Soonyoung,” he says, pulling out his best whiny tone. “I bought you that expensive hoodie you kept on hinting you wanted. And your gift for me is a child’s stationery?”

“No, my gift to you is a choice.”

Jihoon tilts his head to the right, a little confused. “A choice?”

“It’s non-toxic,” Soonyoung taps the marker in Jihoon’s hand with a long index finger, “so it’s safe for your skin. You can write whatever you want on your wrist.” 

Oh. He understands now. More specifically, Jihoon can write whichever _name_ he wants with the Sharpie. 

“It doesn’t work like that,” he gently tells Soonyoung. 

“It does,” Soonyoung insists stubbornly, circling Jihoon’s wrist with his own hand and pressing his thumb into Jihoon’s wrist, still a blank canvas. “Just because the universe tells you that you should love me, it doesn’t mean you have to. You get to choose.”

Jihoon encloses the marker in his palm and uses his free hand to drag Soonyoung’s face down by the string of his hoodie to kiss him on the lips. Just one quick peck, but he hopes it’s enough to help him get his next points across. When he pulls away, Soonyoung unconsciously chases after his mouth, making Jihoon giggle in mixed amusement and fondness.

“I loved you before the universe even whispered the thought of us into existence. And it _doesn’t work_ ,” Jihoon emphasises again, fingers slipping in between the gaps of Soonyoung’s own, “because it should be your handwriting.”

Soonyoung grins wide and happy, leaning in close to kiss Jihoon once again. A proper kiss, this time, one that has Jihoon melting in his arms, pressing their front together as he lets Soonyoung pull him close by the waist. 

His boyfriend uncaps the Sharpie and happily starts scrawling his name into Jihoon’s wrist as soon as they part. Jihoon’s heart grows bigger as he sees the shape of the letters is an exact replica of the one written on his chest. 

“Hey,” Jihoon calls out to his boyfriend, his entire being filled to the brim with love. “Draw a ring on my pinky finger while you’re at it.”

Head shooting up to meet Jihoon’s eyes, Soonyoung asks him curiously, “Not the fourth?”

“Nah. Save that for the real thing.”

And who knows, half a decade down the road, Soonyoung does actually put a real ring on Jihoon.

**Author's Note:**

> comments feed the empty void in my soul <3
> 
> hope you guys enjoyed it!


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